The Young Ones visit Avonlea
by Battywattywoo
Summary: I don't own Anne of Green Gables or The Young Ones; but I'm grateful to them for helping me to survive my schooldays in the 1980s. I thought: "What would happen if they met...?"


The 4 students were relaxing in the Canadian hotel, having unpacked, and enjoyed an evening meal. "What a stroke of luck, winning a holiday to PEI!" "I wrote what potatoes meant to me, and I remembered to use 10 words." "Fancy one of the lobsters on your plate being still alive, Vyv!" chuckled Mike. "Yes, it was so funny when it walked off my plate, crawled up Neil's arm, and pinched his nose!" chortled Vyvyan.

Upon awaking the following morning, the first thing Rick noticed was that the television had vanished from his bedroom. He furiously went and knocked on the neighbouring room, demanding "Vyvyan! Have you been eating televisions again? Fascist!" "No! At least, I don't think I had a midnight snack!" replied the punk, beginning to wonder if he'd done that very thing in a drunken fit.

They all observed that the vivid photographic posters had disappeared from the walls; and they'd been replaced by a greater preponderance of sentimental paintings. They heard a whinny from outside; and looked out of a window to see that there were no longer any cars parked there, just a few horses & carriages.

"Oh heavy heavy heavy! What if we're stuck here forever?" moaned Neil. "Oh shut up Neil! Whining won't solve anything!" objected Rick. "Remember when we slipped back in time before, to the Middle Ages?" recalled Mike. "It didn't last; time came back to normal, soon enough."

Downstairs, they found that the busty, lipsticked receptionist had been replaced by a gentleman with greying side-whiskers. "Oh no, I wanted to get off with that fit bird!" complained Rick. "Instead we'll no doubt have to listen to him going on about the good old days, when the 4-year-olds worked alongside the 3-year-olds down the mines!" "Now now, Rick, whining won't solve anything," Neil couldn't resist retorting; the hippy conceded, "Well at least there won't be as much machinery to gang up on me now."

They went out into the sunshine, and passed a group of women, some elderly, some in early middle age. Mike asked where the nearest shop was, and Rachel Lynde directed the quartet to Lawson's store. Just then, Vyvyan farted, nearly as explosively as he had the day following his alleged "pregnancy". "Oh my, quick, please will somebody fetch my smelling-salts?" demanded Mrs. Barry. "Yes, that would be a good idea," said Rick, screwing up his nose in distaste. Vyv farted again, this time deliberately right in Rick's face, prompting cries of "Vyvyan, you utter bastard!" Rick then picked his nose, and ate the results; and Neil started rummaging around in his ears and his belly-button. Vyvyan retrieved a Walkman from his pocket, but didn't bother with headphones, and he started playing a Motorhead tape at full blast. "What a group of abominable, uncouth louts!" exclaimed Mrs. Barry. "You should all be banished from Avonlea!" At this, Rick and Vyv both flicked the V-sign; Mrs. Lynde had never looked or felt so horrified since Anne Shirley, newly-arrived at Green Gables, had lost her temper with her.

Mike entered Lawson's department-store, where Alice was arranging some bales of material on the shelves. "What can I do for you today, sir?" she asked cheerily. Mike, turning aside, murmured "You could let me put my hand up your skirt," then more audibly he asked for some tobacco. Alice had never seen clothes like his, in her Victorian world; and, noting that he was a short man, she wondered if the circus had come to Avonlea. "Where do you come from, sir?" she enquired, to which Mike gave his ironic reply, "You'd have to ask my parents, they wouldn't tell me." He then offered to pick up the bemused Alice later that evening, after the shop's closing-time.

The 4 young men decided to go skinny-dipping in Barry's Pond/the Lake of Shining Waters; Rick whispered in Vyvyan's ear that it would be fun if they could manage to hide Neil's clothes somewhere...But then they came upon a green where the youngsters of Avonlea were assembled, occupied with ball-games and various other pursuits.

Rick cast his eyes over the assembled group of girlies, on the green. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he espied a gorgeous golden-haired female who was addressed as Ruby by one of her companions; and he heard her say that she'd like nothing more than a beau. But he saw that she was just a little too young to pop his cherry; if only she could be at least 2 years older! Just then, an equally fair lady, aged about 19, came walking across, shading her complexion with a parasol. Jackpot! thought Rick.

He approached her, saying "Well hello, my lovely little living doll! What might your little name be today?" She replied, "My little name's Prissy; it's short for my long name, Priscilla." She would normally have been spending the day with Mr. Phillips, maybe in a shared boat on the lake, or taking a gentle stroll. But she had recently argued with Teddy; so she was quite glad to receive the attentions of this good-looking stranger. "I say, do you like Cliff Richard?" "Who, sir?" enquired Prissy, looking blank. "Oh of course, even Cliff hasn't been born yet; crikey!" observed Rick.

Neil went to sit beside the gentle Diana, who was obviously a younger, bonnier version of their earlier acquaintance Mrs. Barry. Neil began to assist Diana with the process of making a daisy-chain.

When Anne first set eyes on Vyvyan, she thought "Another redhead! Someone who will understand my lifelong sorrow!" And she felt attracted to him, as he looked deliciously dangerous. Gilbert Blythe & Charlie Sloane were both dismayed to notice Anne gazing at the eccentric newcomer. "Hey Anne, there's another carrot-top; but he's a carrot-top without any freckles!" called out one of the brunettes. "How dare you, Josie Pye!" shouted Anne, who'd been doodling a few lines of prose on a slate. She picked up the said slate, and smashed it over Josie's head. "Oh Josie, you should know by now that you shouldn't taunt Anne about her hair," tutted Diana; Gilbert nodded, from painful experience. Vyvyan was thrilled to find a girly with a zest for assaulting people's skulls; he picked up a spare slate, and broke that over Neil's head, just for fun.

"Your surname's Pye? So is mine!" enthused Neil, approaching Josie. "Maybe we're related...I'll walk you to your home; I know a hippy remedy for a sore head...And I can make a pie for all the Pyes!"

That evening, "Marilla, I'm popping out to see Diana," lied Anne, pulling on her jacket, and heading towards the Haunted Wood. "As if they hadn't chattered & played all day, anyway," muttered Marilla. Anne met her punky paramour, as arranged, and they commenced walking through the dark wood. Anne giggled as she recounted all the sad spectres she'd imagined into the forest, 2 years earlier. "I'm not **quite** so scared, nowadays," she asserted; then she shrieked, as Vyv produced his faithful lab-skeleton, from behind his back, with an exclamation of "BOO!" "I spoke too soon!" declared Anne, placing her hand on her chest. "You're a fiend, Mr Basterd!" Vyv was laughing uncontrollably, and Anne soon joined in.

"Would you like me to show you something else?" Vyv offered, beginning to fumble at the buttons of his jeans. SPG, on his shoulder, cautioned "Whoa, steady on laddie, remember she's only 14!" Vyvyan had the grace to blush, and as he turned aside he stuttered "Oh, I meant, er...th-this ghost," as he delved into his pocket and conveniently found a small white cuddly spook, which he brandished in front of Anne's face, with eerie cries of "Whoo! Whoo!"

"Miss Stacey won't allow me to read thrillingly creepy stories," said the Titian-haired schoolgirl, frowning as she thought about her beloved teacher's only flaw. Anne then leaned against Vyv, and reached up on tiptoes to enjoy her first kiss, trying to avoid knocking against his nose-ring. "Twinkle twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are..." sighed Anne, rapturously touching each stud embellishing Vyvyan's forehead.

Rick was at the Andrews household, reciting the poem he'd written for Prissy:

"Oh darling Prissy

At risk of sounding cissy,

Let's pucker up, kissy kissy!

Don't desert me, missy,

Or I'll throw a hissy.

In fact I'll go & do this – see!" miming the act of slitting his throat, upon the last line.

Miss Andrews beamed and dimpled coyly. To be honest, Rick wasn't the brilliant poet he claimed to be, although she wouldn't hurt his feelings by telling him so; especially as she herself had struggled with the spelling of the word **Chrysanthemum** not so long ago! True, Mr Phillips had composed better verses "To Priscilla"; but then, Rick was much more handsome than her long-established suitor, and her hormones were now all haywire. She'd been so certain she was going to spend the rest of her life with Teddy; and prior to the quarrel, she had been dropping hints about the sapphire engagement-ring she'd seen in the jeweller's window; so why did she now have the urge to remove her silky gown, petticoat, and oh my, even her drawers, and be completely naked with Rick? If only her family knew the thoughts in which she was indulging, they'd never recover! "Go upstairs and hide under my bed," whispered Prissy. "I'll pretend I have a headache, and I'll come up and join you soon..."

The Pyes, meanwhile, were all sound asleep, snoring, because their hippy visitor had bored them so much, despite being a fellow Pye. His kind offer to bake them all a vegetable pie had backfired, because he'd dropped it on the floor, and scooped it all up with his grubby hands.

The following morning, the 4 youths awoke to find the decor of 1984 in their hotel bedrooms, again. "I am not a virgin!" announced Rick to the others, with a beatific smile on his face. "Yeah, you've told us that 100 times," drawled Vyv, rolling his eyes. "But this time it's true!" yelled Rick.

"Anne said that one day she'd like to have my baby," smirked Vyv. "A little girl called Vivianne/Vivienne, definitely with an E." "I'll never forget Alice," sighed Mike. "Everyone's been having a really good time, except me," complained Neil lugubriously. "Don't worry, Neil, we'll use the hotel's swimming-pool, and I'm sure that if you sing the Hippy Hippy Shake, you'll pull one of the ladies," consoled Mike, with his fingers crossed behind his back. Vyvyan, ever so discreetly, cupped in his palm a Mayflower that Anne had given him.


End file.
